


ˈpɔɪzənəs

by randomtuna13 (belindarimbi13)



Series: Octoberrabble 2018 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean Winchester, Devil Dean Winchester, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Octoberabble, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 07:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belindarimbi13/pseuds/randomtuna13
Summary: If you ever wonder what the apple of Eden tastes like, Dean's lips are the personification of heavenly sin.#Octoberabble2018 : Day 1 - Poisonous





	ˈpɔɪzənəs

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> This fiction, however, is mine.
> 
> Unbeta'd, since this was supposed to be spontaneous writing. Please don't hesitate to point out my mistake.

 

Dean kisses like a madman. Dean kisses like he's hungry for it, craves for it– _so_ , so thirsty. He kisses like a man finally finds the water after seeking for it forever. He kisses like he's about to end you. Maybe, indeed that's what he will do.

Drowning you with the drag of his lips on yours, torturing you with every stab of his tongue thrusting into your mouth. Splash of green will flash upon your half-lidded eyes, hypnotizing. Bring you to the illusion that his saliva is ambrosia gifted by the gods and goddesses themselves, only for you. Paralyzing. And yet, you also feel blessed.

If you ever wonder what the apple of Eden tastes like, Dean's lips are the personification of heavenly sin.

Countless humans walk straight into his perfect trap and let themselves be pulled in.

Dean Winchester will seduce you with his lips, praise you with his tongue, baptize you with his fingers.

Countless humans curse in His name when they were under his mercy.  And yet, they also feel blessed.

Blasphemy is just like sweet serenade to his ears.

Demons envy him. Angels despise him.

Yet, for a trade of few kisses with the devil, a pair of wings were burned in blazing fire.

_You like that, Cas?_

_Dean!_

_You're the naughty one, aren't you?_

_Dean, I'm close–_

_Come for me, baby. Mark me. Make me yours. Just like you're mine._

_Dean!_

An angel turned into man, clutching his hands upon the devil's hips, doesn't care.

This damnest God's creation is his. And no one can take that from him.

 


End file.
